Let Me Live
by Paillette
Summary: COMPLETE. Three months after RE2, fairly faithful to official canon. After sharing witness to the horrors of RC, Claire and Leon struggle with reminders of the past while running from Umbrella.
1. Three Months Later

**DISCLAIMER**: Claire, Leon, and everything else _Resident Evil_ are all published and licensed by Sony Computer Entertainment and probably New Line Cinema. The concept and games were developed by Capcom._**  
**_

* * *

_**Let Me Live**_

* * *

Chapter One  
**Three Months Later**

_Sometimes I remember  
The darkness of my past  
Bringing back these memories  
I wish I didn't have  
Sometimes I think of letting go  
And never looking back  
And never moving forward so  
There would never be a past_

-Linkin Park, _Easier To Run_

* * *

Seattle, Washington  
January, 1999 

Blood, it was everywhere; spattered on the walls in grisly decoration, smudged into the carpets and smeared on door handles. The stench of rotting flesh mingled with the bitter metallic taste of blood and permeated through the walls around every corner. The senses could describe this, though there was no source. Everything seemed empty, void of life. Everything was dead.

A movement. Something was just out of reach, but it was coming closer—slowly, painfully, as if every horrific moment stretched into eternity. If only time really could stop, but there was no avoiding the inevitable. Suddenly it struck, and with the empty, hollow moan of death, it sank its rotten, decaying teeth into warm, soft human skin, ripping and chewing until more blood flowed freely over its own putrid flesh.

Leon Kennedy moved so quickly that the knife he drew from underneath his pillow sliced through his sheets. The blood in his ears was pounding as he sat, deathly still, staring through the darkness of his empty bedroom. Drenched in cold sweat, he listened intently for the sound of shuffling feet or the low, piteous moans he heard so often in his sleep. Slowly, his wits returned to him and he lowered the knife.

The bed he had been lying on was right against the wall where he could look out the window and see dawn just beginning to break over the city skyline. The dim light of daybreak shed the already stark room in an unforgiving light. The walls were bare and white, and the sheets that had been ripped through with the knife were a solid navy blue. The non-descript mini-blinds shook slightly as wind gently blew through the open window. For all the personality the clinically spare room lacked, it was an ideal set up for anyone wishing to hide or disappear.

Leon slid his legs over the side of the bed and pressed his bare feet to the cold floor. He consciously eased his grip on the hilt of the hunting knife. The breeze was freezing as it hit the slick flesh of his bare torso, but his face was still flushed from the terror of the dream. He wore a pair of sweatpants the color of his sheets. He was always dressed, always going to bed expecting to run from it.

"Moron..." Leon muttered to himself. He massaged the bridge of his nose before turning to stare at the phone on his nightstand. He shook his head and trudged to the bathroom instead.

Leon made sure the bathroom door was locked behind him, although he was the only person who lived in the tiny apartment. Cranking on the hot water, he shed his sweaty clothes and stepped into the shower. He reached for a bar of soap from a high ledge above the showerhead, and his fingers brushed against the barrel of a handgun. Instead of being alarmed, Leon only made a mental note to clean the gun later, as the humidity from the shower ruined the last one he had hidden there.

Minutes later, Leon stepped out of the steamy bathroom with gun in hand and rummaged through his dresser drawers, shoving aside small cartons of shotgun ammunition. He pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt as plain as the room around him before withdrawing an ammo clip for the handgun from his sock drawer. He sat back down on his bed and noticed the ripped sheets for the first time. He shrugged and ripped the material the rest of the way, using a section of it to clean the gun. He glanced at the phone periodically, as though having an internal debate over whether to pick it up or not. When he finally finished with the gun, he loaded it and locked it before putting it back in its place above the shower. The sun was shining in full force now as he returned to the bedroom and sat on the bed once more with a grimace. He stared at the phone again before finally reaching for the receiver.

Leon punched in a well-known number and waited for the connection with a slight frown. He disliked having to bother her all the time with such pathetic, recurring problems, but there was no one else in the world who he knew would understand exactly what he was going through.

* * *

Claire Redfield slept on her stomach with her face crushed into the pillow, arms tucked under the other side with one hand grasping a combat knife. Ex-boyfriends during these last three months had always made some comment about her odd sleeping habits– one called it "dangerously sexy" while another had downright refused to sleep in the same bed. Claire only shrugged. Boyfriends came and went, but the knife stayed. 

When the phone rang, Claire's eyes snapped open, but she lay still for another moment. She never seemed to sleep very deeply, or at least not anymore. The slightest sound at night had her grasping the hilt of her brother's hunting knife and lying rigidly still, eyes scanning the darkness for shuffling shadows.

The phone rang again, snapping Claire out of her reverie. A muffled groan next to her indicated that it needed to be answered. Claire let go of the long-bladed knife and reached for the receiver on the stand next to her bed. Her back arched in the stretch, and her crumpled sheets slipped further off the bed, exposing her boy-cut panties and white tank top. She grabbed the phone before it could ring again.

"Ashley here," Claire lied, as usual.

"Claire, you awake?" Leon asked on the other end, completely unfazed by the fake name.

"I sure hope so, if I'm talking to you," Claire replied, immediately smiling. The mound next to her reached over and tweaked her bottom, and Claire stifled a little shriek as she batted the hand away. "What's up?" she addressed Leon.

"...Are you busy now?" he asked after a slight pause. "Do you want to get some coffee?"

"Yeah, of course," Claire said. "I-- oh, hang on a minute..." A groping hand was accosting Claire's bottom again, and she pulled the phone from her ear as she slapped the appendage away. A dark, tousled head emerged from the folds of her blankets with a sheepish grin and began to kiss her hand.

On the other end, Leon tried not to roll his eyes as he heard Claire giggle. He knew Claire had a life and didn't need him interrupting her Saturday morning lie-in with Boyfriend #3, but he still wished that she would at least pick one with some manners some time, starting with one who knew not to interrupt phone conversations. He waited semi-patiently before Claire returned breathlessly to the phone. "Okay, how about the usual?" she said while trying to tie her hair up into a messy ponytail with one hand.

"Same place?" he confirmed.

"Yep. See you in a few." Claire set the receiver back on the hook before receiving a particularly shocking nip to her backside. She grinned devilishly before snatching the pillow out from underneath the offender's head and promptly beating him with it. Boyfriend #3 yelped and shielded his face.

"Hey, baby, I was only playin'..." he said defensively as Claire extricated herself from the tangled bed sheets. He watched her, his eyes involuntarily traveling over the thin, silvery lines of scar tissue that zigzagged along her neck and collarbone. She'd told him on their first date that she'd been in a car accident and gotten cut up. She had other scars along her body-- some were burn marks, others more jagged and torn, like an animal bite. She hid them all fairly well, as most of them were healed and barely noticeable, but she never slept completely naked.

Claire didn't see him stare as she turned her back to him and reached for her discarded pair of jeans that still lay on the floor after being tossed the night before. She pulled them on and stood in one easy movement before crossing the room to pick up her brown leather biker's jacket from a chair. "Sorry Mike. I've got to meet a friend for coffee this morning," she said as she slipped an arm through the jacket. Mike frowned as he gracelessly attempted to disentangle himself from her bed covers.

"What, no sugar for me this morning?" Claire had only been seeing Mike for a week and she was already finding him to be a bit whiny. She pretended to ignore his pout.

"Sorry babe, gotta run." She snatched up her purse before leaning over the bed to give him a quick peck. "Feel free to raid the fridge if you want," she offered, pointedly ignoring his obvious displeasure at taking second place in her plans for the day. "There's some leftover take-out from Thursday, but nothing really fresh. See you tonight?"

Mike didn't answer as he pulled the covers up over his head again. Claire rolled her eyes but didn't press the issue. She didn't want to be late for Leon. She grabbed her keys from the dining room table and paused in front of the hallway mirror, tugging at her ponytail and reaching into her purse for some lip balm. No need to look like a total frump, even if it was just Leon. A few swipes of mascara later and she was out the door and down the steps, greeting the brisk air of another Seattle morning.

* * *

** A/N**: For the hard-core RE fan's reference, this story is very slightly AU in the fact that Leon and Claire did not split up after the events in RE2. RE3's EX Files indicate that Leon and Claire had an argument where Claire runs off alone, promising to return, and leaves Sherry with Leon. Leon later makes some kind of deal with the U.S. government (verified by RE4), but Sherry is taken away. That's the "official" version, anyway. 

In this story, they did not split... yet. I don't want to spoil my own story, but they were not together by the time of Code: Veronica, although there is the tiniest reference to Leon when Claire sends him the e-mail from prison. By RE4, they seem to have gone their separate ways completely.

I don't really consider this to be out of canon, even though there were basically zero romantic interactions between Claire and Leon in any of the games. I still think that there could be a chance for them within the canon, even considering Ada (a manipulator working on an impressionable young cop) and Steve (who Claire barely seemed to acknowledge, although I loved him!). I want to write more about these ex-loves, but in a sequel.

Anyway, next chapter... **Same Place**  
_I see a red door and I want it painted black  
No colors anymore I want them to turn black  
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes  
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes_

-**P**


	2. Same Place

* * *

_**Let Me Live**_

* * *

Chapter Two  
**Same Place**

_I see a red door and I want it painted black  
No colors anymore I want them to turn black  
I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes  
I have to turn my head until my darkness goes_

-The Rolling Stones, _Paint It Black_

* * *

Leon sat at his usual table, his back to the wall with a clear view of the busy street. He liked to have a clear view of his surroundings, along with full knowledge of all the exits. This tiny café was so familiar to him by now that he knew when the waitresses changed shifts, which regular had developed a nasty cough, and how many seconds it took to cook a fried egg, over-easy. Some people thought this habit of constant surveillance was creepy. He found it comforting. 

Though it was an overcast January morning in Seattle, the air was only slightly chilly and the café still served its smoking patrons in the partially wind-shielded outdoor patio. Leon didn't smoke, but he didn't like the cramped quarters of the indoor café either. So many bodies pressing in on his, their clammy flesh brushing against his hand as he reached for the sugar bowl, their pungent odors raising bile to the back of his throat...

Leon was suddenly startled from his brooding silence as a dark shadow loomed over him. The waitress gasped as he jerked his head up quickly, and she stepped back. Leon stared at her coolly, waiting for her to ask her pat questions. He knew all the waitresses eyed him warily, and he was willing to bet his grandfather's gold lighter that they even drew straws to see who would have to wait on him today. Claire had told him to lighten up a little, that his icy stare creeped the hell out of people, but it was hard when he was expecting one of them to suddenly start convulsing and try to bite him.

"So what can I get for you today, Mr. Sullivan?" The shy waitress seemed to have worked up the courage only to stare at her notepad and wait for his order. Leon didn't miss a beat at the wrong name. He and Claire never had the same names in two places.

"The usual... please." He remembered his manners at the last moment. Common courtesy seemed to be another normal thing that was hard to remember after Raccoon City.

"One black coffee, then." The waitress didn't even bother to scribble on her notepad, though she didn't look up from it, either. "Will Ms. Carmondy be joining you again?"

"Yes."

"I'll bring her usual, too?"

"Yes... thank you."

The waitress took off as fast as she could without being overly offensive, and Leon nearly started again at the sound of a soft laugh. His eyes darted away from the waitresses' retreating form to rest on a grinning Claire.

"Well Mr. Dark and Dangerous, are you scaring the living daylights out of the living again?" Leon snorted as she plopped down opposite him. She eyed him up and down, taking in the apparently perpetual day-old stubble on his face the loose button dangling off of his brown corduroy bomber's jacket. She sighed. "It's no wonder you scare people away, you know," she said, though not unkindly. "You could do with taking care of yourself. I'm worried about you."

Leon suppressed another snort and traded looks with her. She had probably just jumped out of bed as well, but she looked decidedly more put together than he did. His eyes barely registered the silvery scars on the hollows of her neck– they were too familiar to him, just like his. Leon felt himself relax as he watched her just sitting across from him. Claire noticed the faraway look in his eyes. She grinned at him and waved a hand in front of her. "Hey sleepy-head, you're the one who woke up so bright and early today. Want to talk about it?"

Leon grimaced and glanced away to fix his stare on a crack in the cement patio. Actually, he _didn't_ want to talk about it. He wanted to forget about the past three months—the constant running, the repeated hellish nightmares. They had only been in Seattle for barely three weeks now, and already he was wondering how long it would be this time before their carefully guarded identities were found out again.

Claire watched him stare at the ground, that familiar brooding silence overtaking him again. She felt the forced grin fall from her face, suddenly wondering if she had ever seen him really smile. She'd met him, her solitary constant, amidst the terror of that city one night three months ago. They'd been together, running from Umbrella, ever since. All smiles were forced for the benefit of the other. She shook her head and forced the dark thoughts from her mind. She was here for Leon, and it wouldn't help if she started back down the same road he'd been on since the incident. She'd tried to help him deal with it the same way that she did—by pushing it to the back of her mind, refusing to think about the horrors she had witnessed. She focused on one goal and then the next, survival always taking the forefront. She sighed as he finally lifted his gaze back to her, always so weary. She knew what he was going through. She couldn't run from the nightmares every night, either.

The waitress arrived with their dual black coffees, setting the saucers down as quickly as she could without sloshing or breaking anything. Claire smiled and thanked her, but Leon didn't even look up, figuring he'd end up with coffee on his pants if he startled her again. It was better to keep to himself.

"So how's Amy?" Claire asked before gulping down the scalding coffee. Leon suppressed another grimace.

"Haven't seen her," he answered, picking up his spoon and stirring the coffee unnecessarily. He wondered mildly why the waitress had equipped him with a spoon when she didn't bring any cream or sugar.

"What happened _this_ time," Claire took on a disapproving mother hen tone. "I go through all the trouble of setting you up with a date and you blow her off right away? Leon, I know you have some social skills hiding under that gloomy shadow of yours... Leon, are you listening to me?"

Leon spared her a glance and a small smile. "Hey, I took her out a couple times. She just wasn't interested."

Claire rolled her eyes. "You mean you creeped her out. What did you do, show her your ammunition collection?"

Leon really did smile this time. "I didn't _show_ her, she found it. Besides, she shouldn't have been poking around my room while I was in the shower. She said the custom shotgun is illegal in seven states."

Claire laughed out loud. "She's probably right, you know. Anyway, most girls aren't accustomed to finding someone equipped for a small world war in their bedrooms."

It was Leon's turn to scoff. "I'll get rid of my stockpile when you get rid of yours." Claire only winked at him. Neither of them was ever going to be caught unawares again, even if they _were_ several hundred miles away from Raccoon City.

"Alright, you win. But Leon..." she trailed off cautiously. Sensing the changing tone in her voice, he visibly retreated; the momentary smile slid from his features in exchange for the expressionless mask he had been wearing for the past three months. "Don't you get... lonely?" Claire ventured. "I mean, maybe the nightmares wouldn't happen so often if someone was there..."

"Hmph," Leon took a sip from his cooling coffee. "You're here, that's good enough." Although he appeared apathetic, Claire realized he was also being honest. She was surprised to feel a blush creep up her cheeks and quickly sought to hide it behind a long gulp from her cup. Leon had fallen back into his brooding silence, and Claire cast about for another train of conversation.

"You work today?" she asked lightly, setting her empty cup down with a soft clink. Leon tilted back in his chair, apparently finished with his barely-touched beverage.

"Yeah, I'm back on first-shift at the warehouse. How about you? Work at the restaurant today?"

"You know it," she said, fishing around in her purse for some change. Leon beat her to it and laid a few bills on the table, lifting his cup and saucer to use as a paperweight. Claire flashed a grin at him.

"I always appreciate a good tipper," she said playfully as she stood and stretched. Leon also stood and pushed in his chair.

"I may be anti-social but I can be a gentleman," he said with a small smile. They walked together past the iron and glass enclosure of the patio toward the wide sidewalk. Claire turned to him as they reached the corner where they usually went their separate ways.

"Maybe I'll see you later?" she asked, giving him a quick hug. He squeezed her back.

"Maybe," he said, releasing her to look down at her anxious face. He knew that he made her worry too much, but he really was all right, most of the time. He broadened his smile for her sake before he turned away and started walking, disappearing into the wisps of steam rising from the street.

* * *

**A/N**: Next chapter: **Blood is Thicker**:  
_Don't wait for the sun  
It could turn black any day _

_-_**P**

* * *

**DISCLAIMER**: Claire, Leon, and everything else Resident Evil are all published and licensed by Sony Computer Entertainment and New Line Cinema. The concept and games were developed by Capcom. 


	3. Blood Is Thicker

**A/N**: I admit in advance that I don't know anything about gutting fish. This first draft was hard to write and that's why it's a little late… **cough**twoyears**cough**… Good thing I had an outline. It's a lot of info all at once, but I felt it had to be done (and almost twice as long as usual!). Let me know what you think. Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to Trish. -**P**

* * *

Chapter Three  
**Blood is Thicker**

_Don't wait for the sun  
It could turn black any day_

-American HiFi, _Don't Wait for the Sun_

* * *

Leon reached for another dead fish as it moved slowly past him on the conveyor belt. Moving the boning knife deftly, he sliced along the salmon's belly, numbly running through the motions of gutting and de-boning the fish before tossing it onto the belt running behind him. After three weeks of standing above a trough filled with smelly fish guts, Leon could clean a fish in less than 20 seconds. Leon shuddered to think that the monotony of his job was "zombie-like." If only the zombies of Raccoon City had stood around gutting fish all day, Leon mused bitterly.

"Heey, Loppin' Leon!" Leon grimaced before turning to force a surprised smile for his co-worker. Larry grinned widely as he thumped Leon on the back. "I thought you moved to the night shift!"

"Yeah, today's my first day back." Leon tried not to sound weary as he prepared himself for a short bout of small talk.

"You only been working here for a few weeks, Leon. Maybe you should stick with the same shift, yeah?" Leon was not sure where Larry got his accent. It sounded East Coast, but he never bothered to ask. By now Leon wasn't sure if he avoided other people out of caution or simple apathy.

"Yeah, I switched for a week to walk my girlfriend home from her new job," Leon replied in what he hoped was a friendly enough tone. "Now she says I'm crowding her, so I came back to days." Well, that wasn't a complete lie, Leon reasoned. Claire may not have been his girlfriend in the way Larry supposed, but he had switched his shift for a week so that he could walk her home from her new restaurant job. While Claire had told him she liked his company on the way home, she also made the point that she _did_ know how to use the glock in her purse. After that, he relaxed a little.

"Tch, women!" Larry waved, already walking away with a patronizing smile. He was a social man but he didn't want to be caught standing with Lopping Leon for too long. "See you around, Leo!"

After Larry turned around, Leon let the phony grin fall from his face and he turned back to his work as if the interruption had never happened. He allowed the use of his real name in each place where he worked, simply because he had to answer to it more often. The constant lies of fake names and invented girlfriends on top of the unfair wages of undocumented work only added to his hatred of Umbrella.

Umbrella was often the subject where Leon's mind tended to wander when it detached from his mechanical work. He couldn't help but imagine the life he could have had if only he hadn't been sent to Raccoon City. It sure wouldn't have involved standing up to his knees in fish guts eight hours a day. Instead, he could have had the job he had been trained to do, the one that made his family proud. He would have been protecting people, not suffering each night from the nightmares of having to shoot them in the head instead. He briefly wondered if he'd ever be able to think about anything other than the night of September 29th. He corrected himself—sometimes he thought about the night of September 30th instead. It was the night they lost Sherry.

Leon viciously stabbed the fish in his hands, nearly slicing clean through it. He remembered arriving at the barricaded city limits, of being treated as survivors. He told the commander of the National Guard all about the incident and Umbrella's involvement. Sherry was pried away from Claire to receive medical attention; the girl was still feeling ill, though Leon reassured everyone that she had been cured.

Thinking of it now, Leon could have hung himself—he had been far too trusting. In the middle of the night, Umbrella-marked vehicles had arrived at the barricade. Seeing them, he and Claire sneaked outside around the tents. They overheard the commander quickly explaining about the "carriers," and telling an armed team in biohazard suits where to find them. Claire immediately wanted to find Sherry, but Leon held her back. Maybe he made a mistake. They watched as the men in biohazard suits rushed away a gurney carrying the unconscious young girl to one of the Umbrella vans. Claire had screamed.

A shrill whistle blew, signaling his lunch break. It was a few moments before Leon realized he was still holding a dead fish in his hands. Four hours already? He mentally shook himself and tossed the voided fish behind his back to land on the receiving belt. In his mind, he was still dragging Claire away as the chase began. They had jumped into an unmanned vehicle and smashed through the barrier that night, beginning their lives on the run. Claire cried herself to sleep that night and missed the explosion at dawn. The United States Government bombed Raccoon City the morning of October 1st.

* * *

Claire huffed her way up three flights of dingy stairs, returning to her apartment after running her morning errands. She reached her floor and carefully set down her bag of groceries as she paused in front of the door like she always did. She listened carefully, and slowly turned her key in the lock. On some level, she reasoned that it was unlikely that the first manifestations of a B.O.W. outbreak in Seattle would occur behind her apartment door. However, the deep fear of slowly opening a door to yet another lurking horror was too far ingrained to let go of her caution.

She opened the door with one hand while the other was halfway in her purse holding a handgun. Once inside, she glanced around quickly until she was satisfied that nothing sinister was about. Today, that seemed to include Mike. Claire dropped her purse on the counter and found a note instead: "hope you had fun with your other boyfriend." Claire only rolled her eyes at Mike's guilt trip attempt before moving into the kitchen to make some breakfast. She poured herself a bowl of cold cereal and carried it into her living room/bedroom to the only armchair.

Tucking her legs beneath her and balancing the bowl on one knee, she unfolded the newspaper and began to read. The front page was nothing interesting, just news on some presidential candidates and more politics. The science and technology section had an article on stem cell research, which Claire read. Leon had once teased her by saying that she was the only person he knew who could use the word "pupate" correctly in a sentence. She knew she could probably never go back to college to finish her biology degree, not after flunking out of an entire fall semester. That, and the small fact that the entire country thought she was a terrorist.

These thoughts prompted Claire to search for any news regarding Leon or herself. Not even a week after they escaped the barricade around Raccoon City, Claire and Leon found their names listed among the country's most wanted terrorists. Along with Jill Valentine and Claire's brother Chris, they were being blamed for unleashing a biochemical "dirty" bomb in the middle of Raccoon City, unleashing a hideous, cannibalistic disease. She and Leon had been on the move for the past three months, keeping off "the grid," taking whichever jobs would pay them only in cash with minimal questions asked. This usually meant babysitting or service jobs for Claire and manual labor like construction for Leon. Every once in a while someone would recognize their faces or an armored truck filled with Umbrella operatives would surround whichever seedy motel or grubby apartment they had been living in. Then they had to run.

Today Claire found her name almost buried toward the end of the paper. It appeared that after three months of evasion, the government and Umbrella were becoming less vocal of the fact that she and Leon still had not been caught. This article only mentioned that the terrorists might be heading for Mexico. That was exactly where Claire wanted to go, but Leon had abruptly changed their course and started heading for Canada instead. The decision appeared to be paying off. Claire often wondered if this was the reason why she never heard of her brother; he must have escaped from the country. She wondered where he could be now, and if he was fighting Umbrella abroad.

There was one other survivor who Claire never read about. If Leon knew that she thought about the little girl's fate every day since she had been abducted, he would see right through her cheerful mask. The feeling of abandoning a small child who had instinctively trusted her… Claire forced herself to stop. She was going to turn the tables on Umbrella someday, and then she would save Sherry. Claire was certain the little girl knew that she was coming back for her.

Claire shook out the paper and was about to fold it up when she noticed a torn piece of paper flutter to the ground. She picked it up and found handwriting hastily scribbled on a piece of notebook paper.

"Turn to section A5," Claire muttered aloud. Suddenly, her nerves were on end. Her paranoia kicked into overdrive as she realized someone must have known she would pick up this paper. She visited the same paper stall every day. Stupid! Whoever had slipped the note into the paper must have been in the stall with her the moment she bought it. Her mind immediately leaped to the elderly man who had sold her the paper. Maybe he had been paid to do it. Claire raked her memory. Maybe it had been the person standing next to her, bundled up with a scarf over his face as he browsed the magazines…

In her panic, Claire actually forgot about what the note said. Mentally shaking herself, she quickly turned to section A5. She scanned headlines quickly, looking for something familiar. Gore versus Bush, Y2K fears, Chinese year of the…

"Oh my God," Claire breathed as she found it. "Rogue U.S. Police Officer Gunned Down in Paris" was immediately followed by the name Chris Redfield. Claire scanned the article at least three times before getting the gist of the story. It claimed that her brother had infiltrated the Parisian headquarters of Umbrella Pharmaceuticals "with unknown motives" and sparked a firefight with Umbrella's security force. Details from the French government had not yet been released, but it was believed that the ex-Air Force pilot/ex-police officer of the lately bombed Raccoon City was killed in the skirmish.

Claire was stunned for several moments longer. Chris was alive, she was sure of it. Umbrella was trying to hide another gaffe by announcing his death. But what was he doing in Paris? He had to be fighting Umbrella underground—why hadn't he contacted her?

She instantly knew what her next goal was. Claire jumped up, almost knocking her cereal bowl to the floor. She dumped it in the kitchen and pulled on her shoes before running out of the apartment. She was heading for the docks.

* * *

Normally, Leon took his lunch out on the pier. He knew that the distance from the cafeteria where the other workers ate their lunch probably only strengthened his anti-social reputation, but popularity was lower on his list than peace and quiet. Unfortunately, today Larry had taken it upon himself to drag him by the elbow to the cafeteria instead. Leon pretended to be pleased to sit with the rest of the guys for a change, but he was sure they were just as uncomfortable around him as he was around them. Leon bought his usual egg salad on wheat bread from the vending machine, which was the healthiest thing available next to the Twinkies and cupcakes. He was far more health-conscious than Claire, who he was constantly chastising for choosing Doritos and soda.

In a position that was even more uncomfortable than sitting in a room filled with people, Leon was forced to sit at a table with his back to the entrance. He tried to combat his paranoia by resisting the urge to keep glancing over his shoulder. Instead, he tried to keep conversation to a minimum by speaking only when directly spoken to and focused his attention to any sounds behind him. He thought he heard whistling and guys catcalling. Larry, seated next to him, turned around and whistled himself. "Damn, whose pretty chickie is that?"

Leon allowed himself to turn around now to find Claire scanning the crowd at the entrance. She saw him as soon as he turned around and waved to him. Larry nudged him in the ribs as he stood to meet her amid more catcalls. When he joined her at the entrance, Claire surprised him by giving him a quick peck on the lips. Leon must have looked momentarily stunned because he forgot to hug Claire back when she gave him a quick squeeze.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out," she said with a small smile. Lowering her voice, Claire nodded her head in the direction of the guys at his table who were shouting and giving Leon thumbs up. "Don't they think I'm your girlfriend?"

"Ah, yeah," Leon replied, quickly recovering. "It's loud in here, let's go to the pier." Once outside, Leon could tell something was seriously agitating Claire. She was chewing fiercely on her bottom lip and twisting her hands in a knot.

"Leon, did you read the paper today?" she started as they walked toward the ocean. Leon shook his head. He usually read it first thing in the morning to get the jump on anything Umbrella might have planned for him during the day, but today's nightmare had distracted him.

"I think someone's tailing me," Claire blurted out, and Leon stopped abruptly.

"How do you know?"

"There was a note in my paper."

Leon squinted over her shoulder and scanned the empty lot as if he thought he could see Umbrella already. He quickly led her by the elbow behind one of the empty warehouses.

"What did it say," he asked in a low voice. It was very rare to see Claire suddenly disturbed, and he took this as a serious sign.

"It just told me to turn to a page in the paper," Claire said as she fished in her pockets. "Oh dang, I thought I brought it with me…"

"What was in the paper?" Leon asked, almost impatiently. Claire stared up at him, suddenly looking vulnerable.

"My brother, Chris," she started weakly. "He's in Paris. They said they killed him, but I know—"

"Don't worry, Claire," Leon interrupted. He knew how sensitive she was on this subject. He had been expecting to hear something about Sherry, but news about Chris was just as serious. From what they had pieced together, Chris had left the RPD without a word to Claire about a month before the widespread outbreak; perhaps with the intent of keeping her out of danger, but inadvertently leading his sister to the city to find him. The evidence they found at the police station in his wake led them to believe he was actively working against Umbrella, and that made him a solid ally in Leon's eyes.

"The note could be a good or bad sign," Leon said. Claire could see him trying to piece things together in his head as he started to pace. "It is a warning either way, either from Umbrella or someone on Chris's side." Leon stopped to stare steadily at Claire. "Either way, we're too obvious. We've got to keep moving." Claire looked like she wanted to say something but wasn't sure how to say it. Leon watched her carefully but didn't interrupt as she decided how to say something he already knew he wasn't going to like.

"I want to go to Paris," she finally admitted. Leon's eyes narrowed, but she continued. "I think we should follow Chris's lead. We have to take down Umbrella, we can't just keep running from them." They hadn't had this conversation yet, but Leon could always sense it was coming. Claire was not as cautious as he was. He hated all the running and hiding just as much as she did, maybe even more because it rubbed firmly against his morals, but right now it was a matter of survival. To turn around and start chasing Umbrella instead would be a death wish.

"Claire, I don't think…" he began, but it was too late to try to pacify her.

"No Leon, think about it. We can't stay in the States anyway; it's been crazy trying to outrun our own government. I'm sure the only reason we haven't been killed yet is because Umbrella wants to watch us instead, but who knows how long that will last. They've ruined our lives and murdered thousands more!" Leon tried to stay patient as he watched Claire's temper flare. "What if this happens again? What if we're the only ones who can stop it?" She was now staring desperately up at Leon, waiting for his reply. Just as he predicted he wasn't going to like her solution, she already knew she was not going to like his.

"You know that's out of the question, at least right now," Leon said, looking away. Claire felt all the air leave her lungs as he continued. "You said it yourself. How can we chase after Umbrella when they're watching us already? They'll just wait for us to make one wrong move and then wipe us out in a second. They're practically a small army already. Taking them out is a job for an entire country, not just two people."

"'An entire country?'" Claire rejoined. She could see that Leon was in "bossy, overly-protective cadet" mode, but she could match him in stubbornness any day. "Do you mean _our_ country, the ones who sacrificed us at the barricade? The ones who handed Sherry over to Umbrella? How do we know they'll do anything to stop Umbrella? How do we know they're not already _with_ Umbrella?" Leon could see that there was not going to be any reasoning with Claire any further right then. The whistle that ended his lunch break sounded, giving him an excuse to cut her off.

"Look, I have to get back to work," he said, trying to soften his voice in the face of her boiling temper. "We can talk about this later." Claire only glared and crossed her arms over her chest. Leon knew that she would forgive him as he stepped closer to give her a hug. She didn't budge. He sighed and held a hand to her face instead.

"Don't be mad." He leaned forward and barely brushed her hairline with his lips. He thought he saw her frown soften a bit. He turned and headed into the warehouse, leaving Claire to stew.

* * *

**A/N**: Next chapter, **Closest To Heaven**:  
_And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am_

rofl, I am such a sap… ;) But you know you love it! **-P**

* * *

**DISCLAIMER**: Claire, Leon, and everything else Resident Evil are all published and licensed by Sony Computer Entertainment and New Line Cinema. The concept and games were developed by Capcom.


	4. Closest To Heaven

Chapter Four**  
Closest to Heaven**

_And I don't want the world to see me_

_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

-The Goo Goo Dolls, _Iris_

* * *

Claire grimaced immediately after she accidentally slammed a dinner plate in front of her customer.

"I'm so sorry," she forced a smile while brushing away the crumbs that fell from the plate. "My mind was just gone for a minute there." Claire's customer rolled his eyes and picked up his fork, and Claire mentally deducted yet another tip from this table. Her encounter with Leon earlier that afternoon was still on her mind and doing nothing for her take home pay.

"Geeze Ashley, I saw you almost take out your customer with the baked chicken over there," said a blonde waitress who playfully poked Claire in the back when they were both in the kitchen. Claire mentally shook herself and remembered that her name in Seattle was Ashley.

"Sorry Amy, I'm really distracted tonight," Claire smiled wearily.

"What's got you down this time?" Amy had the advantage having a sympathetic Southern accent. "Boy troubles again? It's not that nut case Ben Sullivan again, is it?" Claire took a moment to remember that Ben was the name Leon had given to this girl during their handful of dates.

"Oh yeah him, I mean no, it's not him…" Claire fumbled while trying to keep her stories straight. Amy cocked an eyebrow. "It's all of them," Claire feigned a guilty smile.

"Good Lord girl, you can't even keep them straight," Amy was filling her tray with butter dishes while waiting for her order to come up. "Well you can make it easy for yourself and ditch Ben at least—the boy ain't right." Claire assumed that Amy was remembering Leon's customized shot gun and was glad that she had never told anyone about the grenade launcher under her own bed.

"Le—he, Ben, is my friend," Claire stumbled again. "I kind of have to take care of him."

"Yeah, well, I guess that's the kindest thing you can do for him," Amy replied absently as she reached for the hot dinner plates that the cooks had just put on the counter. "Just let me know if you need any help, with your tables I mean." Claire nodded and didn't even hear the cook shouting that her order was done. She couldn't stop thinking about the argument she'd had with Leon. She knew she had to help her brother but the thought of splitting up with Leon was terrifying. Even while she ran alone through the halls of the Raccoon City Police Department, she knew that Leon was somewhere in that building too. He wouldn't leave her to die alone.

By the time Claire picked up her tray of food, the heat had stopped wafting from the plates. She quickly backed through the double doors leading to the dining room. When she stopped at the waitress station to pick up her drink glasses, Amy nudged her. Glancing in the direction of Amy's meaningful nod, Claire saw Leon sitting at a booth in her section and staring straight at her. Attributing her sudden lack of breath to the fact that she'd been thinking about their argument all day, Claire quickly carried her tray to her long-suffering customers. While she smiled a few more apologies, she could feel Leon's eyes on her. Casually pulling out her notepad, she walked to his booth.

"Good evening Mr. Sullivan. What can I get you?" Claire was watching him closely to see if he was still thinking their discussion earlier. He smiled slightly.

"I just wanted to talk to you again," he said, trying to keep his voice low. Out of the corner of her eye Claire could see Amy watching them while taking another customer's order.

"You seemed kind of upset this afternoon," he went on. "I just wanted to know if you were okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Claire replied quickly. "Can't this wait? I'm being watched by everyone around here." Claire was sure her disgruntled customers were muttering about her while she appeared to be chatting with her boyfriend.

"I know," Leon said. "That's why I'm here. You said you were being followed, so I wanted to walk you home again."

"I don't need—" but Claire's protest was cut short when she noticed someone standing in the lobby. Claire and Leon both watched as the hostess led Mike to a seat two booths behind Leon, whom he glared at. Claire decided that a war between Leon and yesterday's boyfriend was the last thing she needed that night.

"Okay, this is going to drive me crazy," she said, shoving her pad of paper back into the pocket of her apron. "I'll come over to your place right after my shift. I get off in 30 minutes." Leon had turned his back to Mike with deliberate slowness and now stared past Claire, apparently thinking. Claire thought his gaze was directed at the waitress station where Amy was busy filling water glasses.

"Okay," Leon said after a moment, his eyes flicking back to Claire. Without another word he stood up with his jacket in hand. He paused for a moment while standing in front of her, and Claire felt that this was usually when she gave him a hug. Neither of them made a move, however, so Leon walked past her and out the door. Hearing the door bang open as Leon passed through it, Claire made her way over to Mike's table. Mike was wearing his usually petulant scowl. Just as he opened his mouth to complain, Claire slammed her notepad and pen on the table.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Mike stared at her hand on the table with disgust.

"Fuck off," Claire said, finally making up her mind to not even bother letting him down gently. Realizing how good those words felt, Claire walked straight past the stunned hostess and grabbed her coat from the closet near the door. She turned around and saw Amy standing in the doorway between the lobby and dining room, her mouth agape, while behind her the disgruntled customers stared their crazy waitress with disbelief. Smiling, Claire turned around and walked out the door.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Claire reached the steps of Leon's building. His windows were semi-dark, but she knew he was there. She entered the building and climbed the dark hallway stairs while fishing in her purse for a key. Turning the lock quickly, she stepped into the dimly-lit entryway but heard another soft click. For a split second she could only stare at Leon's steady hand as he leveled a gun at her head.

"Dammit, Claire," Leon swore, immediately lowering the handgun. "I thought you were…"

"A monster?" Claire interjected irritably, not pleased with being held at gunpoint.

"One of Umbrella's agents," Leon finished as he turned back to his kitchen and laid down the weapon.

"So if I were infected with the virus, you would shoot me?"

Leon halfway smiled. "I could probably outrun you," he replied evasively.

"You couldn't run from me forever," Claire insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. Leon turned around and stared at her steadily.

"You're right, I couldn't run forever…" he said quietly, no longer smiling. "I _can't_ run forever. Not from Umbrella, not from you."

Caught off-guard by the gravity in his voice, Claire softened a bit. "I didn't mean that. I'm not accusing you of being a coward."

A pot of water simmered on the stove. Leon extracted a box of spaghetti from the cupboard and dumped the pasta into the water. He looked more haggard than usual under the single fluorescent bulb hanging in the kitchen. He hadn't shaved, and his loose, navy blue sweater and frayed jeans made him look like he'd spent a night sleeping in the gutter.

Claire stood on the other side of the counter uncertainly, now unsure of the reason she had stormed over to his apartment and was suddenly afraid of catching Leon's eye. She didn't immediately notice when Leon had left the kitchen and was standing in front of her.

"I know what you meant," he said, raising a hand to brush her hair from her neck. "But I feel like a coward. A tired coward. I was scared when you mentioned chasing after Umbrella. Scared at first… then just sad. We can't beat them, Claire…"

"We have to," Claire interrupted desperately, thinking not only of her brother but of Sherry as well. "Leon, I need you… I don't want to do this alone." Claire felt him linger, and she held her breath, searching his face. Another moment passed and Leon stepped back.

"When are you leaving?" he asked, turning back to his kitchen counter. Almost immediately, Claire began to cry. Leon spun around, alarmed at the sound of her sobbing. He had only seen Claire cry once before, the night they lost Sherry. Now the grief washed out of her in a sudden torrent. Leon crossed the threshold of his tiny kitchenette again and wrapped his arms around her. Claire was already trying to stop crying as she swiped a hand over her eyes and smeared her mascara. Leon kissed her forehead and stroked her hair. Claire took a deep breath and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'm leaving tonight," she said softly.

"…How?"

"I'll sneak on board a plane or something."

"Wait to get tickets. Don't make a fuss until you have to… I'm going with you."

Claire pulled away slightly to look up at him. His face was hard-set and serious. "Are you sure?" she asked. "This is personal for me."

"It's Umbrella," he said simply, as if it were the plainest fact in the world. "It's personal for me too."

Claire continued to stare at him, conscious of the fact that his arms were still around her. "Okay," she agreed after a long moment. Her eyes were dull.

Leon opened his mouth to reply, but a sudden hissing noise behind them cut him off. "Oh damn," Leon cursed as he rushed over to the stove where boiling water was running over and he quickly turned down the flame. "So do you want to stay here tonight?" he asked as he stirred the food. "We could have some spaghetti if I don't burn the place down." When he didn't hear a response, Leon turned back to the door where Claire stood. She was gone.

In the back of his mind, Leon heard the click of the burner as he turned it off. Distantly, he knew that if he went to the window at this exact second, he would see her exiting the building and walking down the street in the direction of the airport. Just for a few moments, he stood still and closed his eyes, knowing that he could chase after her but choosing not to. Three powerful knocks on the door startled him back to life.

Leon crossed the room again to open the door. Filling the hallway were three men. Leon raised his arms in defeat.

"Okay," Leon said softly, nodding to some unspoken agreement. "Okay, you win." So he was going to be executed, after running all this time.

"At ease, Kennedy," said one of the men. "We're here to make you a job offer. We're letting the girl go if you hear us out."

Leon closed his eyes again, letting time catch up to this accelerated series of moments. Then he stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Claire stood among the small crowd of people waiting to board the first flight out of Seattle that morning. She stared vacantly while dawn broke on the horizon. It wasn't rosy pink or even salmon-colored. The sky was just a dull light. She hugged her oversized, shapeless coat closer to her body. She had not even stopped at her apartment to change her clothes, and was therefore shivering on the landing strip in her short waitress's dress. She carried enough cash in her purse that, coupled with last night's tips, had bought her a ticket from an impatient man with a briefcase.

Knowing that somehow she would be able to scrounge up a passport in New York, just as she would somehow find a way to get to Paris where she would begin a blind search for her brother, she truly felt nothing as she expressionlessly watched the small aircraft taxi slowly toward the group. She did not even have to force thoughts of Leon from her mind, as the wound was so intensely painful and sudden that her brain deliberately ignored it for the sake of self-preservation. She didn't think she even had a reason for leaving him without a word, but she was sure that after Umbrella had caught her in whatever trap they had laid, she would have one. She was sure she would be thanking herself for saving him. She was sure she had done the right thing.

She moved slowly as the line of people gradually boarded the plane. Claire smiled weakly at the flight attendant, and the woman smiled sympathetically as she saw Claire huddled up with tears streaming down her face. When Claire was seated, the attendant brought her a blanket.

"You look heartbroken, honey," the older woman said with genuine feeling. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Thank you," Claire replied, taking the blanket and trying not to sound too grateful. "I'm on my way to meet my brother."

"Oh good," the attendant sounded relieved. "You looked like you didn't have anyone in the world to go home to. Let me know if you need anything."

The woman walked away and Claire turned to the window. The sun was blinding on the slick runway.

_Whatever lies beyond this morning  
__Is a little later on  
Regardless of warnings__  
The future doesn't scare me at all  
Nothing's like before_

-Utada Hikaru, _Simple and Clean _

**A/N:** Okay, that's the end of this story! This suggests that Leon is on his way to join up with the US government while Claire infiltrates the Umbrella HQ in Paris and gets captured, setting into motion the events of _Code:VERONICA _and eventually _Resident Evil 4_. **–P**


End file.
